Fall From Grace
by Nintendian
Summary: Blue was a champion, once. But now he was nobody, nothing at all, just another piece of trash to be thrown away. And it was all because of Red. - Blue, Red.


So, Blue and Red—I think this fic presents a really different spin on their relationship, but I do like to see them as friends. Hope you enjoy this, and please review!

Warning for depression, suicidal thoughts and more.

_I don't own Pokémon._

* * *

**Fall From Grace**

( or was he even there in the first place? )

* * *

The day Blue lost the championship to Red was the worst day of his life.

He had just swept through the Elite Four like they were nothing. They didn't even present any real challenge to a Trainer as talented as him. He had pushed his Pokémon harder than ever before, yelling at them to get up when they fell down. He shouted for them to stand up and fight, and his Pokémon had obeyed him, but what he didn't notice was the brokenness, the emptiness in his Pokémon's eyes. He thought he was doing them a favor, readying them for victory, but he didn't know his own Pokémon as well as he thought.

They'd suffered under his hands for years, now. They had no will to fight; there would be nobody to congratulate them when they won a battle, or comfort them when they lost. There wasn't a smile or even an acknowledgement when they left their countless foes lying in the dust, utterly defeated. There was nothing at all. His Pokémon saw him as a tyrant, a dictator, a _monster_ who would do anything for power and the Championship. They knew he didn't care about them at all—they were the pawns on his chessboard of ambition.

Blue strode out of Agatha's room, not bothering to look back, disgusted at how little of a fight her Pokémon had offered. He burst into the final room, Lance's, and challenged the Dragon Trainer to a fight.

It didn't take long.

Within maybe ten minutes, Lance fell to his knees as his Dragonite hit the ground with all his other Pokémon, and Blue was being more than a little mean when he thought that was where the former Champion should stay—in the dirt. Despite everything, Lance gave him an enthusiastic congratulations and he made the whole speech about being a Champion. He left Blue gloating in the Hall of Fame. Triumph and pride were rushing through the newly-crowned Champion, and he was at least nice enough to congratulate his Pokémon, but they all knew that Blue thought the glory and fame was all his, and the Pokémon were just Blue's tools—a way of getting what he wanted.

Before the news reporters could even come, Blue was alerted that there was another challenger, and he was not the least bit surprised when _Red _entered the room. From the confident look in his eyes, Blue knew that his rival had swept through the Elite Four just as easily as he had. He was surprised to even feel _bad_ for the other Trainer, because he knew that Red would end up defeated and leave the way he'd come, out of the Champion's room, as he rightfully belonged.

In Blue's mind, the battle was already won.

The biggest of smirks spread across his face as he met Red's eyes, and their red and blue orbs locked for a moment before their hands fell naturally to their Poké balls, as they had done countless times before. When the two rivals met, it was only natural to battle, like it was natural to breathe. They didn't even think twice, and this time was no different. Blue hurled his Poké ball, Red did the same, and the battle began.

Later, as he looked back on it, it was almost comical how _easily _Red won. The battle rushed by before his eyes. Before he knew it, his last Pokémon was on the ground with the defeated look in its eyes that Blue had only seen when he beat down someone else. He yelled for it to get up, get _up_, but its blank stare hit him in the face and he knew. He knew. He had _lost._ It was he who fell to his knees this time, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, feeling nothing except for the feeling of total defeat.

Red's smirk hit him in the face, so hard that the world was spinning around him and he saw stars.

Pikachu jumped into Red's arms and they twirled around together, and Blue was thoroughly disgusted at the sight of his rival celebrating with the title that he had gained and lost in less than an hour. And of course, the news reporters decided to arrive at _that _very moment. With a fire burning in his heart, he ran out of the room, his eyes blurring, for some reason. He felt wetness on his cheeks, and he wiped it away harshly, leaving a stinging pain in its wake.

_You're a failure._

The words echoed in his head over and over until he couldn't hear anything else. He knew it was true, he was a failure. He was Blue, the Trainer who'd gained and lost the Championship before he could even blink. He ran and ran and ran. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew that he _needed_ to get out of here.

How had he ever thought he would win? _How_? Deep down inside, there was always a voice that told him that Red was truly better, because he really _loved _and _cared _for his Pokémon, just like Blue didn't. That voice had been Professor Oak's.

Of course, the best day of his life had turned into the worst.

Because when you're on top of the world, there's nowhere else to go but down. It was the beginning of his fall from grace.

— - O - —

The day after he lost his whole world to Red, he flew back to Pallet Town, the place where he started his journey. He sat at the edge of the water and felt the strange sensation of tears, again. He'd been feeling it a lot lately.

He threw a rock as hard as he could into the water, and he slammed his other hand into the sharp rocks, enjoying the pain. He stared out at the water, seeing it but not seeing anything. There was a voice echoing in his ears again. _You lost, you lost. You're a failure. _And Blue clenched his fists and screamed, "Shut up!"

The voice didn't even waver.

It was pathetic how he couldn't even shut himself up.

— - O - —

During the next few weeks, Blue developed a routine of staring into the water every day. All he could feel was tears. And hatred. The hatred grew, like vines that clutched at him with thorns that attached themselves to him and enjoyed seeing his life bleed away from his very eyes.

Nobody even cared, not even his grandfather. Professor Oak was so much more fascinated with Red than him, and whenever he looked at Blue (when he even bothered to), all the boy could see was disappointment and another voice calling him a failure, even though Oak didn't actually say it out loud. His eyes said it, and it hurt Blue more than the thorns of hatred that carried themselves within him.

He hated Professor Oak, the man who he couldn't call his grandfather.

His "friends," his "family" in Pallet Town didn't stop what they were doing to comfort him, either. They only stopped to stare at him, and Blue felt some people's contempt jabbing at him, and other people's indifference, because they didn't care about him at all. People only scorned him because he wasn't _Red_, the perfect one. He was Blue, the failure. That was an insult in itself.

He hated _everyone,_ for just being _there_ and going about their daily business like nothing had happened.

And finally, Red. He hated Red, he _hated _him. It was Red who had pulled Blue's world out from under his very eyes, and it was Red who had smirked at him and walked away afterward. Blue kept seeing the smirk. It wouldn't get out of his eyes, and he wanted to grab it and rip it to shreds and then burn it.

_I hope you enjoy your Championship. You don't deserve it. _

It was Red who had ruined his life and then went on to be Champion, which Blue had wanted his whole life. Red had stolen his life, his title, and then tossed him in the trash. Whenever Blue returned home and actually bothered to turn on the TV, he was ambushed by Red, Red, _Red_. He grabbed the TV remote and clicked through the channels.

(click)

The announcer's voice rang from the TV. "And here's _another_ replay of the battle between Red, our favorite Champion, and Blue!"

It was the fifteenth replay.

Blue didn't know it, but there were actually hidden cameras in the ceiling of the Champion's room, capturing every single battle ever held there. Of _course_, though, they didn't show how easily Blue had defeated Lance.

"Wait, who _is _Blue, anyway?" The other announcer's voice broke in.

"He's Blue Oak, the professor's grandson, stupid!"

"Oh. Well, you know, for the professor's grandson, Blue's not very...impressive."

Yes, they actually said that.

(click)

A documentary of Red's life, family, and friends.

(click)

A little kid saying that they wanted to be like Red when they grew up.

(click)

A cartoon starring Red as the protagonist, showing his journey to conquer Team Rocket and become the Champion.

(click)

An interview of Red, himself. When he saw Red's actual face, Blue gripped the TV remote so hard it almost broke. His knuckles were white. Gritting his teeth, he slammed the button as hard as he could, turning the TV off. Why had he even bothered?

Red was the perfect Trainer, the best, everyone's hero.

He _hated_ Red.

— - O - —

The days came and went, and suddenly the news spread that Red was missing. Everyone was worried to death and searching everywhere they could. Even Professor Oak left his lab (which he never did) to go look. The entire Pallet Town was empty. At first, Blue enjoyed the peace—there was nobody to bother him anymore—but anger pushed him to go find his rival, now enemy, and then he could get revenge for what Red had done to him.

Besides, he already knew where Red would be. Back when they were kids, during the long days of their innocent childhood, when he and Red were actually _friends _(Blue had long forgotten the feeling of friendship), they had talked about being Pokémon Masters, of course. Red had bragged that after he was Champion, he would go to Mt. Silver and conquer all the wild Pokémon to show off his strength.

Nobody talked about Mt. Silver anymore because they were scared of it. Blue had heard countless stories of strong, fearless Trainers leaving to climb the mountain, only to go missing. Some were even rumored to be dead, and people thought it was the wild Pokémon that had killed them.

He knew Red would be there.

_Showing off your strength, huh? Let's see about that._

— - O - —

Blue burst out of the cave into the open blizzard, snow blinding him and stinging his eyes. The whole world was whirling white. Mt. Silver was harsher than he'd expected, and wild Pokémon had attacked him almost every minute, leaving his Pokémon exhausted and in low health. He'd even seen a few dead bodies out there in the ice and snow, while the wind howled like a dead soul. Blue had assured himself that he wasn't scared, but his heart had beat faster and the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

His eyes adjusted for a few seconds, and snowflakes landed on his face like little needles, stinging with pain. His hands were clammy. Judging from how high he was, this was the peak. Cliff walls jagged sharply down, and the bottom wasn't even visible, shrouded with mist. If Red wasn't here, then he wouldn't be anywhere. But Blue hesitated for a few moments.

The high, whirling wind rose again, the sound of a lost soul.

That did it. He couldn't stand it anymore.

Without another thought, Blue blinked off the snow settling in his eyes and strode forward, with each step his shoes sinking into the snow. He panicked. The feeling of sinking. But he kept going, disappearing into the heavy fog. After barely ten more steps, something appeared in front of him, out of nowhere. Blue halted immediately, startled. He was face-to-face with _him, _the boy he'd seen in his nightmares, the face he could never get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried.

_Red._

"Blue," Red said, like nothing had happened at all. Blue wanted to punch him in the face, or anywhere. Just where it hurt the most.

"Red." The word fell from his lips, naturally, and that old hatred surged up inside him again. He pulled out his Poké ball, yelled, "Charizard!" and the fire dragon appeared out of nowhere, with a fierce roar.

Blue mind went blurry, he was so angry at Red—for everything he'd ever done to him, starting from the day they'd got their first Pokémon in Professor Oak's lab and Red's Bulbasaur had beat his Charmander. He recalled their countless battles throughout their journey, desperate to prove their strength over the other. The battle for the Championship replayed fresh in his mind again. He could never get it out of his head. He watched his Pokémon fall, one by one, and he clenched his fists. It would all end here.

He would _kill _Red.

Never again would he have to suffer, watching his rival as the Champion, be everything Blue aspired to be but wasn't. He clenched his fists harder till they hurt, his heart fire-red with hate. Fire-"red." _What a coincidence,_ he thought dryly, as he ordered for Charizard to attack as hard as it could. Blue-hot flames burst out from its mouth, straight at Red. Sure, Charizard was exhausted from battling all the wild Pokémon on the mountain, but Blue had pushed it hard many times before, and he would do it again.

The fire was searing and Red should have been killed, burned at the very least, but Blue heard the crackle of electricity. When the smoke and mist cleared, Red was standing there, perfectly fine, and his Pikachu was standing over Blue's Charizard, which was lying in the snow, fainted.

"I hate you!" Blue yelled as loud as he could, the sound echoing throughout the mountain, and he released all his Pokémon with the order to kill Red. The other Trainer was standing there with eyes of flames and a smirk as big as Blue's had ever been before. Smoke rose and covered everything, and Blue coughed, seeing nothing but gray now.

He wasn't a bit surprised when his vision cleared and revealed all his Pokémon laying at his feet, unmoving. He looked up and glared at Red with all the hatred he could muster, and he strode toward him, fists ready to punch and his whole body ready to kill Red himself.

He couldn't.

Red's faithful Pokémon were surrounding him protectively, watching him intently under narrowed eyes. He wouldn't be able to scratch Red, even touch him. The other boy's Pokémon would gladly kill Blue first. If only his own Pokémon were like that.

A pang of regret washed over him, surprising him. If only he had listened to his grandfather and loved his Pokémon the way Red had, then maybe he would be able to beat him. But no, his Pokémon hated him, and he knew it. _Everyone _hated him.

He even hated himself.

As he stared at Red, the Champion, the best Pokémon Trainer in the whole entire world, standing in front of him with his powerful team of veteran Pokémon, realization slapped Blue in the face, and this time it hurt more than ever. He was nothing. He was pathetic. He had wanted to become a Pokémon Master for as long as he could remember, but did it really mean anything? There were millions of Trainers in the world who aspired to be a Champion when they grew up, and how many actually did?

He was nobody, nothing at all, just another piece of trash to be thrown away.

Coming to a decision, he advanced toward Red, who stiffened. But Blue strode past him, onto the highest cliff of Mt. Silver. He could see the whole mountain below, and the peaks rose into a gray sky, cloudy with no sun at all.

That was how his life would be—gray and emotionless. He had lost the Championship. There was no point. No point to go on living.

He looked down, and tears started forming and blurred his eyes. He didn't care. The whole world was white, gray, and blurry, and he calculated how far the drop would be. This way, his grandfather, everyone else, wouldn't have to be disappointed in him. He was nothing to them, and Red was the center of their whole universe. Red was a Pokémon Master, just like they'd always dreamed of when they were kids. That was how it always had been, and always would be.

He didn't have to exist anymore. He was ruining everybody's lives, his Pokémon's lives, and his own life. He always messed everything up, and he had seen his whole life, the Championship, slip from his grasp. He wanted to forget everything, erase himself from history. It wouldn't be at all hard for him to step off the cliff.

"Blue." Red caught his arm, and Blue saw true concern, true friendship in his eyes. Maybe Red did care for him the whole time, maybe they had always been friends, and Blue was just blind to everything. "Don't do it."

It was too late now.

He couldn't see anything anymore, the world was too blurry. He shrugged Red's arm off, steadied himself. With a deep breath and a final goodbye, he stepped off the drop as easily as nothing, and then he was falling.

Falling from grace.


End file.
